


Heart of the Tempest

by Quillfiend



Series: The Sin Bin [4]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kinkou, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 23:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillfiend/pseuds/Quillfiend
Summary: Akali's inks are fading, and there is only one person she trusts to revive the dragon on her back: her old master. They meet in a village far from everything, and something soft and precious awakens along with the tattoo.





	Heart of the Tempest

_There was a time when the stars sat patiently in the sky and listened to the sun's tales, amazed and full of desire to match their brightest brother. But that was long ago, and now that the sun had grown bitter, oppressive, ignorant, the stars turned to the moon that had once nurtured them._

„ _Beware,“ said the moon, „for the sun is not content with your defiance.“_

_The stars feared not their blazing sibling, but knew that the moon could suffer its tyranny were the golden patriarch to find out about their pact. And so they said: „Let us converse only at night - the sun sleeps then, and will not find out about our accord.“_

  
  


It took months of meticulous planning and scheming for two masters of the Kinkou order to be able to meet without the third knowing, and Akali still wasn't entirely convinced that Shen didn't catch wind of her and Kennen's plot. That he did not intervene was more of a sign of his good will rather than their genius, and she was constantly on her toes, ready for the inevitable confrontation. No, she did not expect Shen or his Kinkou to attack her; they were family. But there were worse things a family could do.

The village of Kasahari was far removed from not just the Placidium, but every important city and busy port of Ionia. It was a lazy coastal hamlet that was only large enough to be marked on local maps and nothing else, and most of the locals considered all Ionian happenings - like the war with Noxus - tales of a faraway land that did not concern them. As such it was perfect for a secret meeting; Akali hadn't even known about its existence before Kennen had suggested it.

Even then, she was the first one to arrive, or so she believed. There was no sign of the Heart of the Tempest, and so she spent what little time she had readying herself. They chose a little wooden house for their meeting, sat in a bamboo wood not far from Kasahari, and Akali found it perfect for meditations, drinking faint asakuri tea and preparing herself for the painful ordeal that was to come.

She was stretching in the upper room when the yordle master finally joined her. He could've been entirely silent, surprising her upon entry, but he respected her enough to make his presence immediately known. She bowed to him and he bowed to her, and Akali couldn't help but feel like that while she had grown and matured, Kennen didn't age a single day. He was still the same little smirking yordle that taught her backflips at the Kinkou Monastery.

„I'll never get used to that,“ he said, sitting down on the wooden floor and letting his dark hood slip off his chestnut hair, „and you being all... Independent. I'm not even confident I could beat you in a spar anymore.“

„Perhaps we should test that later,“ Akali smiled as she watched him set down a heavy bag and pull out a set of little painted inkwells.

„I would not be opposed to that. Shen is above such matters and all. You know him.“

„Are you certain he doesn't know about this?“

„No.“ A long needle flashed in Kennen's hands. Akali squinted.

„How did you excuse your absence?“

„A Vastayan war summit. Which is by the by not a lie. I don't have a lot of time.“

She straightened her back and untied her loose kimono. She let it slide off her shoulders, wearing nothing but a pair of baggy pants underneath; her fading tattoo was visible in all its glory now.

„Not so bad,“ Kennen pushed himself up to his legs and circled her, tying his hair in a short tail, „you made it sound way worse.“

„I wanted to see you,“ she admitted without much emotion, „She Who Prunes The Tree grows weary in her solitude, friend.“

„You could've come back,“ he laid a clawed hand on her shoulder, „you know Shen would not drive you away.“

„I cannot. Not yet.“ She squeezed the furry hand on her shoulder. „If I sit in its branches, I cannot see the roots of the Tree growing crooked, gnawed at and poisoned by insidious worms.“

He leaned forward and rested his nose in her dark hair, like he used to when she was still his student. He never shied from being intimate with her, and it made her desire a different path now, one with less blood soaking into its dusty curves.

„I admire you,“ Kennen said in a hushed, gentle tone when he brought his inks behind her, „your sovereignty, Akali. I would've gone mad long ago.“

„Nothing can break the storm.“

„And perhaps one day, after a Noxian blade strikes me through, I shall become one with it,“ he laughed, „but until then, I am still a yordle. To be alone means to lose everything.“

„You won't be alone tonight.“

„No,“ he smiled, „no, I won't.“

Akali still remembered the first time she received her inks. She tried her best to be brave then, and she made no sound, but she did weep and she did shiver in pain. Even now she let nobody but Kennen touch her skin, and the little master worked quickly and precisely to not make her suffering any longer than it needed to be. Still, the great dragon spanned most of Akali's back and arms, and even the fastest ninja could not finish all of it in one go without tiring her out. They decided to stop at sunset, which was when the tempest sat himself upon a wicker chair and recounted war tales to the shadow sitting at his feet.

„It was different then when we could pretend to be above it all,“ Kennen whispered, his claws trawling through Akali's hair, „distant. Disinterested. But now the monastery lies in ruin, demolished by Zed and the Vastayans, and we're pretending that we're still relevant. More relevant than the war.“

„We helped end it,“ Akali nuzzled into his knee, her back red and hurting, „the Kinkou are and always will be Ionia's guardians.“

„It will come back. We were lucky this time. We might not be again.“

„Are you afraid of death?“

„I am,“ Kennen admitted, „I know that there must be death so the balance may be preserved, but my own terrifies me. Everything undone in a single moment.“

She rested her chin between his legs and looked up. His thick brows were furrowed in a fierce frown, but he was still a yordle, small and fragile. The deep running scar over his right eye only reinforced this; the master of storms wasn't invincible.

„You don't have to fear this as long as I stand,“ Akali swore, „let it be known that the night walks with the storm.“

„You've a destiny of your own, Akali. While I appreciate the sentiment, you can't always be there to protect me.“ He laughed. „Besides, that's a little cowardly of me. Don't mind me.“

He put on his lighthearted smirk again, but Akali could tell that the thought was still bothering him. That Kennen feared death meant that there was a very real risk of him having to face it, and she could not bear the thought. She turned her back to her family, to everything she knew, but she could not forsake her old master. Unlike her parents and the rest of the Kinkou, she had a deeper connection to him, beyond just the boundaries of their order and their duties.

She wondered just how deep this connection was.

„Don't,“ Kennen said when she pulled herself up on her muscular arms and bit into the fur on his neck, „more trouble than it's worth.“

„But I want to,“ Akali tried establishing her domiance, expecting a lecture, but the tempest didn't protest at all. He didn't seem all too keen on halting her advances, instead tilting his head to the side to grant her better access to himself. He wasn't wearing much, and getting him out of the simple master robe he had on hardly proved a challenge for the shadow walker. She liked having him before her like that, exposed like he was to be her next mark. And he liked being at her mercy.

„You're the only reason I ever considered going back,“ she whispered, her mouth nearing his, „you always were my brother unborn, my father while he was absent, my master in martial arts - and life.“

„I'm sorry, Akali,“ he sighed in response as her embrace became more tight, more oppressive, „I never wanted to bind you to myself like that.“

„To love you is not a binding. It's a choice.“

He melted at her confession, huffing a content chuckle; Akali intended to seal her words with a kiss but then a sharp sting of pain ran down her back, forcing her to wince and draw back. She hissed.

„Akali!“ Kennen was with her in a split second, sliding off his chair and standing in front of her, „the tattoo - let me check.“

She stopped him with her hand, holding him in place. They exchanged a long, questioning stare, after which Kennen dropped to his knees before her, now once again smaller than the assassin; with his clawed hands in his lap and endless care and worry in his eyes he seemed like the most devout of acolytes, with her being his sole faith.

„I just stretched too much,“ she mustered a smile, „not the first time it's happened.“

„You should rest.“

„Yes. But I don't want to.“

As the pain faded, Akali dared wrap her arms around the yordle and pull him closer; she would let nothing interrupt her this time. Kennen was timid at first, cautious and wary, and the first kiss was nothing more than a shy peck, gentle and fleeting like Ionian springs. But Akali wanted more, and the Heart of the Tempest was keen to fulfill any wish of hers; when she lifted his chin and bit into him not with coyness, but determined passion, he returned in kind. He let her push him to the ground, put her weight onto him and listen to the heavy breaths he struggled to draw beneath her.

„Come back to me,“ he pleaded with her when she finally gave his tongue some respite and began undoing her baggy trousers, „the monastery is empty without you, and so am I.“

„Soon,“ Akali whispered, running her fingers through the soft fur on his chest. They weren't even parted yet, and she already missed him - perhaps for all the years she promised to be there but wasn't. She almost sank into melancholy, but her want proved stronger; with a hunched back she straddled the little master, feeling his warmth between her legs. She bit her cheek, and he sensed her uncertainty; with a reassuring smile he assumed the role of a teacher as he had so many times before, guiding her hips so that they could join their bodies in a deeper connection. Suddenly they weren't master and student, not anymore; only two lovers locked in a tender embrace.

Akali found it unpleasant at first, to have him inside her, tiny barbs scraping against her inner walls. Kennen was small enough for this sensation to pass quickly however; the discomfort faded, replaced by sheer arousal. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt, and she was quickly growing addicted to it. Every thrust of her powerful thighs had him buried deeper inside her, and she soon found herself leaning down and huffing into his flicking ear, short of breath and with her head full of darker thoughts.

„Akali—„ he spoke her name between hushed moans, and somehow it excited her even more. Her hand glided through his fur and towards his neck, her fingers coiling around it. The more he wheezed, the more thrilled she felt; she so enjoyed the idea of toying with this little thing. And when the guilt set in, he quickly dispelled it by pressing his claws against her fingers and keeping them in place, reinforcing the choke; he enjoyed being her plaything as much as she enjoyed playing with him.

Somehow, the thought of that was a bit too much for Akali.

She was a master of control, of her body, but not now that she was riding the tempest itself. She tensed and spasmed, letting out an involuntary, loud groan. Kennen tried pulling her in for a sloppy kiss before he surrendered his focus as well, and she made sure to keep him trapped so that he had no other choice but to come inside her.

„Sorry,“ she muttered, relaxing the squeeze on his neck, „I got a bit... Passionate.“

„It's the way you are.“ He kept her hands close, kissing her digits. „Besides, you don't see me complaining, do you?“

She released him from the tight hold of her legs and collapsed next to him. He smiled at her, his ears still twitching; neither of them were bothered by the mess thay had made, the sweat, tangled fur and hair.

„Stay a day longer,“ Akali begged, pulling him into her arms and nuzzling into him, „a single night.“

„Let us make a trade.“ Kennen wrapped a strand of her raven hair around his fuzzy finger. „Promise me that one day you will return home.“

She closed her eyes. „One day, I will.“

„Then I'll stay.“ His voice was soft, forgiving. „As long as you'll allow me this one hope.“

She squeezed him tighter and let herself hope with him; that this war, _her_ war, would be over soon. That her journey would come to an end.

That there would be nothing standing between her and the Heart of the Tempest.

 


End file.
